[There's a silence when the feed turns on, a quiet that seeps into all corners of the room this video is recording, nothing happening save for the lone figure - it being day, this seems a bit off. Krypta can be seen sitting at the edge of her bed, dead quiet, staring into the mirror on the other side of the room. There's no sound coming from her-
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Comments 69
Hey. Hey, talk to me, kid.
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...No point in talking when it's already said and done.
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You okay? [Dean knows it's a stupid question and that whatever was on the mirror had to be be bad. He'd long since started ignoring his own out of prospect. His face is a level of concern he hasn't shown her yet, at least from beneath his leather mask.]
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Even so, she shakes her head.]
No. I'll live, though- get used to it. I always do.
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That's one way to deal with it.
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Trust me, detective. If I told you what I saw, I'd have to explain everything. And believe me, half the shit I've been through you'd think I was crazy.
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What do you want, Altaïr.
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... hey.
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When she finally does, her face twitches slightly, trying to bring herself out of the blank state she's in. Which doesn't work so well, but at least she responds.]
...hey yourself.
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But that distant look? Yeah, that's bringing back memories. None too pleasant, either.]
... you wanna talk about it? I know we don't exactly know each other that great, but - you'd be surprised how much it helps.
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[For a second, she freezes, doesn't know what to say. It hurts so fucking much, but she's never had someone to really talk to about it, other than Nick. And a girl to guy talk is always different from a girl to girl talk.
Then her face is in her hands, and she breathes out heavily, trying to push everything down again.]
My best friend is dead.
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...I'll be fine.
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